The Space Between
by rainysfeverdreams
Summary: This is the story of how Lyla and Tim finally got together between S2 & S3 formerly titled "Lyla's Denial"
1. Chapter 1: Lyla's Denial

**Disclaimer:** I think everyone knows the drill.

**Title:** Lyla's Denial

**Pairing:** Lyla/Tim

**Summary:** Lyla has trouble admitting the real reason why things will never work out between she and Chris. Takes place between S2 & S3.

**Prologue:**

Lyla drives aimlessly, trying to clear her mind.

She just finished an emotionally draining conversation with Chris, hinting to him that their five-month relationship is coming to an end. He had been under the impression that things were pretty near perfect. He was mistaken.

He assumed this was all about sex. He told her he loved her. He loved her enough to wait. _Do you love me enough to wait, Lyla? _

That had been his question and she had wanted to say yes. But lying to him would make her feel even worse. Waiting wasn't the problem. So, she told him that part.

The problem was so much simpler_._

She had tried to convince herself that Chris was right for her. She had reminded herself time and time again about all the things that drew her toward Chris in the first place. He made her feel like a good Christian. He made her feel like she had been forgiven for the mistakes she made in her past. He made her feel good about herself.

But… she doesn't love him. Never will.

Things are over between them, even if she didn't bother to make it official tonight.

As she continues driving without a destination, her mind wanders back to a certain other boy. A boy she grew up with, yet still remains largely a mystery to her. A boy who had been there for her when her whole world turned upside down. A boy who loved her. Who loves her, presently. A boy that has been so bruised, battered and tossed aside by the people he has loved, it is truly a wonder he wants to love anyone at this point.

That boy had shocked her many times throughout the course of their lives. But nothing was more shocking than the night he stood outside, in front of his house, claiming that he loved her. She didn't have to wonder if he meant it. She could see that he did.

His heart had been on his sleeve and he didn't wear it there for just anyone. He didn't wear it there for anyone at all. But, he wore it there for her. Or, maybe it wasn't on his sleeve as much as it was in his eyes.

_That look._

He had given her that look many times in the last couple of years. A look that said all the things he couldn't bring himself to say out loud. He had actually already been telling her that he loved her, over and over again.

To be loved by Tim Riggins terrified her. And the possibility that she loved him back terrified her even more.

**Chapter 1:**

Lyla parks her car by the lake and slowly gets out. She wanders toward the water.

It's dark, but she can just make out a figure sitting alone in a lawn chair. She knows who it is, before she gets close enough to actually see him. She should probably get back in her car and drive away. But he already knows she's there.

She braces herself for impact.

He looks up as he hears her approach. "Surprised to see you out here, Garrity."

"It's a nice night. I just wanted some fresh air."

He smiles and raises his beer, "me too."

He's studying her; even in the dark she can feel his intent gaze.

"What's wrong?" He asks.

"Why do you assume something's wrong?"

"You don't come out here. Not alone."

She hates that he's right.

"I'm fine, Tim."

He nods. He doesn't believe her for a second. All her body language says exactly the opposite.

He gets up out of his chair, offering it to her.

"No, thanks. I'm not staying long."

He nods toward the chair.

"Please, Lyla. Just sit."

She takes the chair.

He walks over to where his truck is parked and pulls a second lawn chair from the back. He plops the chair down next to the one Lyla is now comfortably seated in. He takes a seat beside her and offers her a beer. She declines.

They sit for a while in a comfortable silence.

Tim finally clears his throat. He hates to see her looking so sad.

"For real, Garrity. What's wrong?"

She gives him a pleading look. She turns away and shakes her head.

"I can't talk to you about this."

He takes that in with a slight nod.

"So, it's the boyfriend? You have a fight or something?"

This time she doesn't look up. "We didn't have a fight."

He raises his eyebrows at her, taking a swig of his beer. He doesn't believe her for a second. "Alright."

She needs to tell him something or else he'll persist all night. She decides on part of the truth- a different truth.

"My mom's moving away. To San Francisco. I have to decide whether I'm going with her or staying here with my dad."

It's true. Her mother is moving away, but she's already 99% certain she's not going along. It doesn't make sense for her to leave Dillon during her senior year. It's not as hard a decision as she lets Tim think it is. Better that she let him believe she's confiding in him.

She sees some surprise register in his eyes. That's not what he expected to hear.

"You should stay."

Lyla feels her heart flutter in her chest at his words.

"Yeah? Why's that?"

"'Cuz this is your home." He pauses and then looks over, meeting her eyes. "And I'd miss ya."

He smiles and she finds herself returning the smile. There's only so much pushing away she can do. And, of course, there's _that_ _look_ in his eyes again.

Lyla feels herself unravel a bit. She remembers why she wanted to be alone in the first place.

"Tim, can I ask you a question?"

He's still giving her the look, "Yeah."

"Why?"

She knows she needs to elaborate, but she doesn't know the right words to use. He waits for her to continue. She swallows and tries to keep her composure. "Why don't you just move on? Why don't you believe me when I say it's never gonna happen between us?"

Her voice is strained, her emotions getting the best of her.

She watches as a flicker of something crosses his eyes. "You know why."

And she kinda does. But maybe she wants him to convince her.

She shakes her head. "You have to stop."

He looks away, and now he's teasing her just a bit. "Y'know, Lyla. I'm not really doing anything. The radio show ended a while ago. You saying you want me to stop going to church? 'Cuz I seem to remember you being the one who invited me there in the first place."

It's so frustrating when he's right.

"Tim, you know what I mean. And, yes, now that you mention it, you should stop going to my church because you go for the wrong reasons. You shouldn't be there because of me."

She feels bad telling him not to go to church. She wishes she could take back her last sentence. Her last two sentences. She should have never taken the conversation in this direction tonight. She was already emotionally wrought before she sat down with him. Now she feels like she's free-falling.

Tim has fallen silent for the moment. When he finally speaks again, she almost jumps. His voice is soft, "I can't, Lyla." She is afraid to meet his gaze, and yet she can't help herself. "I can't stop the way I feel."

It reminds her of another time and another place. _Lyla, I can't. I can't stop thinking about you, Lyla._ Those words had made her give in, back then.

She doesn't know what to say. No one can control the way they feel. Just like she has no control over how she feels. How she doesn't feel for Chris. How she doesn't want to admit she may feel for Tim.

She feels her eyes start to sting. The tears will come soon and she really doesn't want him to see her cry.

She stands somewhat abruptly. A single tear breaks free and makes it way down her right cheek. She's already turned away so he can't see it fall.

"I've gotta go." She mumbles her goodbye and starts walking quickly back toward her car.

She feels like she is in some sort of a trance. She didn't even realize that he had stood up and followed her.

Before she can unlock her driver's side door, she feels his hand tugging gently on her arm. He spins her around to face him. She can't hide the tears that are shimmering in her eyes. He looks at her with such warmth and complete sincerity.

"Lyla..." No one says her name quite the way he does. It's like a psalm on his lips.

His strong, muscular arms are around her now. Arms that could take down a man twice his size—they are careful, gentle with her. Yet, still strong. She lets herself melt into his embrace. It feels good; she feels so safe. He kisses her cheek, washing away the salt from the tear that had so recently traveled that path. He says nothing; he just continues to hold her close.

She turns her head, just a fraction. It brings her lips closer to where his are. She's not entirely sure if she did it on purpose or not. Either way, he sees it as the invitation it is. And everything goes into slow motion as his lips land on hers. Softly. She lets him kiss her, but he does so only for the briefest moment. It reminds her of that time in Mexico…

He's still holding her in his arms and gazing down into her eyes. He licks his upper lip, a habit that she finds unbearably sexy. She knows she wears a slightly pained expression. Just because she let him kiss her, doesn't mean anything has changed. This is still wrong. She's still with Chris. Even if its just a technicality at this point.

He unwraps his arms from around her body and drops his gaze to the ground. He looks a bit defeated as he backs away and mumbles a goodbye, "Get home safe, Lyla."

She doesn't say a word, only watches as he retreats to his chair. Part of her wants to run back over to him and have him continue what he just started. And the other part of her feels guilty for not pushing him away in the first place. She reigns in both parts of herself and gets in her car. She needs to put mileage between herself and Tim in order to forget how he just made her feel.

As she drives back toward her house, she acknowledges that there is no amount of mileage that can change the truth.

Tim sets her on fire without lifting a finger. Chris can't even light the match.


	2. Chapter 2: Boy, Interrupted

**A/N- I wasn't sure if I was ever going to write any more to this story, but I purposely left it open just in case inspiration ever struck. There will probably be another chapter or two coming soon. I suddenly feel the urge to fill in the season-gap completely…**

**Chapter 2:**

He didn't show up for church.

Lyla should feel victorious. Tim finally listened to her. He finally got the message. After all the months of trying to wear her down, all the months of subtly reminding her what she was missing… he had finally given up. Victory was hers!

So why did victory feel more like defeat?

Lyla sits in the school cafeteria pretending to study for finals.

She didn't start out pretending, but within seconds of Tim's entrance into the room her concentration was irreversibly shattered. He didn't appear to notice her as he casually joked around with his buddies.

Just a few weeks ago she was all he would have noticed.

He is avoiding her- that much is obvious. It is impossible to avoid her completely. It isn't a very big school, after all. It isn't even a very big town. She had spotted him here and there, but hadn't spoken to him in nearly three weeks. Tim is quite skilled at making himself scarce. No more church appearances. Skipping school even more frequently than he normally did. In the event that he walked by her in the hallway, eye contact was never made and his pace was quickened.

She tried not to let it bother her, but felt his absence potently. How could she not? He had been going out of his way to be a key player in her life for _months_ on end. And, truthfully, she couldn't remember a time when he wasn't a part of her life in some way. She _missed_ him. Yet, she couldn't be angry with him for staying away. He was only doing what she had insisted.

_Why don't you just move on?_

She thought about the last time she saw him—the night at the lake. Such a small moment in their vast history. The stolen kiss that was barely a kiss at all. Compared to other moments in their sordid past that moment shouldn't have mattered at all. But, suddenly it felt important. It felt like he had been bidding her goodbye.

His timing couldn't be worse.

So much had happened between then and now. Maybe not externally, but internally she felt like she'd completed an epic journey. And it had changed her. It had brought her to a place of acceptance that she hadn't felt in ages.

She accepted that her relationship with Chris was going nowhere, so she ended it. Officially. He told her that his family would be disappointed, as they were completely smitten with her in every way. The slight pang of guilt caused by that statement subsided quickly. She liked Chris' family, but she couldn't revolve her entire relationship around them.

The feeling of being single again washed over her and felt a whole lot like _relief_.

She accepted some other things as well. She accepted that she would never be the perfect Christian, but that didn't make her a bad person. She accepted that she couldn't change the past, but decided not to let that inform her future. She accepted that Tim's feelings for her weren't as unrequited as she let him believe.

She had spent so long denying those feelings—being ashamed of them, being scared of them- it had become second nature to insist they weren't there at all. But, she knew they had been there for quite a while. Now that time had passed and the dust had settled, were there any more good reasons to push him away?

She and Jason had both moved on, away from each other. Everyone moved on. It was only natural.

Tim had remained steadfast. He hadn't wanted to end things with her last year; he wanted something to start all over this year. He wouldn't give up. _Couldn't_ give up, or so he claimed.

Until now.

Terrible timing, indeed.

Tim is seated with his back to her. She has the sinking feeling that he knows she is behind him and purposely chose to face the opposite direction. She debates on whether to make a discreet exit from the room or if she should make the effort to go and talk to him. Surely she is as much to blame for letting him avoid her, than he is for actually doing it. Things shouldn't be weird between them. Despite whatever they were, or are, or could possibly be; they were always friends. They always cared…

A bleach-bottle blonde named Robin beelines over to Tim's lunch table, catching Lyla's eye. She is leaning over Tim, carefully keeping her cleavage at his eye level. She was his rally girl at one point or another. Lyla knows enough to assume that she has also been in his bed. The thought makes her stomach clench.

And just like that she is reminded why she had spent so much time pushing him away. Reminded that sometimes the things you desire aren't necessarily good for you. No matter how tempting they could be.

Lyla pouts to herself, swallowing her feelings of jealousy. This is exactly why she had stayed with Chris for so long, because he saved her from this. He saved her from herself. He kept her from wandering down the path that leads to a teenage-alcoholic who refuses to take anything seriously. School is a joke. Relationships are nonexistent. How could that path not lead to hurt? Again.

Lyla reluctantly reminds herself that Tim had never hurt her. In an ironic twist, she had been the one to hurt him. He had never made her feel disposable, even when she begged him. No, instead, she was the one to cast him aside, while he did the exact opposite.

How long had he been in love with her before he finally said it to her face?

Lyla watches Tim nod politely at the tiny blonde girl who is shamelessly flirting—probably offering to write his term papers or something more scandalous. Most rally-girls moved on to bigger and better things once the football season came to a close, but exceptions seemed to be made for Tim. Judging by his body language, he is giving Robin the attention she so desperately wants. It's typical. He is always happy to oblige in the flirting department, whether he's interested or not.

Maybe it's better that she hasn't seen much of him lately. The current floorshow is agitating her more than she'd like to admit. Not to mention that it has really put a damper on her studying. With finals rapidly approaching, she can't afford to let herself get distracted. Everyone knows that junior year grades are the ones most important for college admissions.

Robin finally prances off, taking one of Tim's textbooks along with her. Obviously, their conversation had involved some sort of trade of goods and services. Lyla shakes her head in disappointment and begins gathering up her own books.

It's none of her business. _He's_ none of her business. She needs to focus on her own life and put Tim Riggins out of her head.

As she leaves the room, she doesn't see his eyes follow her out the door.

_She's still the only thing he notices._


	3. Chapter 3: Things End, Things Begin

**A/N – First of all, thank you SO much for reading this story and being so kind in reviews! It really means a lot, because I absolutely love these characters and really want to do them justice. Second of all, I have decided to retitle the story. It started to bother me that "Lyla's Denial" is such a lame title, plus it doesn't really fit with anything other than the first chapter. (Yeah, guess I'm a little OCD like that.) Hope it doesn't cause any confusion. Now back to the storytelling…**

Chapter 3

It's unbearably hot.

Lyla holds the cold bottle of beer against her bare skin, enjoying what little relief it provides. She is sweating, as is everyone around her. There are far too many bodies occupying one confined space for this type of weather. Not that it's anything unusual. Growing up in Texas, extreme heat is par for the course.

Tonight is as extreme as it gets.

With the school year officially at its end, a summer kickoff party was pretty much a necessity. There aren't many joys in a teenager's life quite like the beginning of summer vacation. And Lyla had to admit, despite the temperature, it felt good to cut loose after working so hard the last few weeks. Not to mention that she would've used any available excuse to get away from her family's current drama.

The music is turned up as the living-room-turned-dance-floor becomes even more overcrowded. Bodies grinding. People shouting. The temperature is rising by the second. It's going to her head.

Lyla moves away from the cluster of gyrating teenagers toward the open patio doors. She steps outside, wishing there was a cool breeze to greet her. No such luck, but at least there is room to breathe.

She leans her back against the wooden railing that overlooks the over-occupied pool below. Dozens of her classmates have opted to jump in with no regard to proper bathing attire. On a night like tonight, that doesn't seem like a bad idea. Lyla is strongly considering doing the same.

Her friend, Melissa, walks by carrying a tray of multi-colored jello shots. "Lyla, there you are! You have to take one before they're all gone."

Lyla shakes her head laughing, "No thanks, I know what you put in there. I'd prefer not to burn a hole in my stomach lining tonight."

"Stop exaggerating." Melissa rolls her eyes, pushing one of the tiny cups into Lyla's hand.

Lyla reluctantly accepts the shot, fully intending to find someone else to pawn it off on as soon as possible. Melissa heads down the stairs to the deck below, passing along a jello shot to a large male figure heading in the opposite direction.

It's Tim Riggins.

He makes eye contact with Lyla as he reaches the top of the stairs and a small smile plays across his lips. For a brief moment she is certain that he will proceed into the house, leaving her with only the slightest flicker of acknowledgement. After all, it was his choice to turn them into little more than acquaintances.

He surprises her by holding the gaze and walking over to stand beside her.

"Hey."

She smiles cautiously up at him, wondering why after all the weeks of silence he would choose tonight to end it. "Hey, yourself."

He leans his back against the railing, mimicking her posture, and uses his jello shot to gesture to hers. "Bottoms up, Garrity."

She considers the probably-toxic-jello-shot for a moment before "clinking" it against his and swallowing it down. She had never liked Melissa's jello shots, which are chock-full of cheap vodka and severely lacking in sugar. She scrunches her face in disgust and uses her beer as a chaser.

Tim chuckles, but doesn't react to the foul taste. "She doesn't really make those right, does she?"

"I could have told you that." She replies dryly.

Lyla takes a moment to study Tim who has his eyes trained on the floorboards beneath their feet. She appreciates his casual demeanor, but has never been one to ignore the proverbial elephant in the room. "So… you're talking to me again, Tim? You done hating me now?"

He looks up from underneath the damp hair that has fell over his face. She wishes he would laugh, make a joke and put her at ease. As much as she wants to address the issue, she also wants to avoid an argument.

He chooses to answer her sincerely. "You know I could never hate you. You know that, right?"

His words hit home for her. She supposes that if he didn't hate her for the past, then there was probably nothing that could ever make him hate her. Not for real, anyway.

His eyes return to the floor as he continues, a hint of frustration in his voice. "I was doing what you asked. Respecting your wishes."

She shakes her head, internally chastising herself. She lets out a deep breath choosing her next words carefully. "I guess that is what you would think. But… I didn't want you to disappear, Tim. I thought we could still be friends."

She wants to cringe at the cliché she just uttered. He simply nods along as if this is exactly what he expected her to say, but his answer is heartfelt. "Always."

His compliance on the issue is bittersweet. On the one hand, Lyla is relieved to know that Tim will accept a place in her life regardless of the label. On the other hand…

She plays with the label on her beer bottle, which has started to peel off. "So, if you wanted to go back to church—I mean, that's fine with me."

He clears his throat. "Yeah, well. That wasn't really my thing."

"I understand." She says. "I don't even know if it's my thing anymore."

She is overcome by a sudden wave of dizziness. Could be the heat. Could be the alcohol. Could be Tim's close proximity. Was probably a mixture of all three.

He sees her sway a bit and grip the railing for support. He instinctively reaches out to steady her. "You alright?"

She is very aware of the feeling of his hand firmly gripping her upper arm. She shrugs it off and raises her now lukewarm bottle of beer to her flushed cheek. "It's the heat. I'm fine."

He is studying her, determining whether or not she is as fine as she claims to be. Any questions he may have had about her church comments were lost in the wake of concern. She gives him a slightly embarrassed smile. "OK, so maybe I should have skipped the shot."

"You were always a lightweight, Garrity." He teases.

"That is _so_ not true," she replies, lightly punching him in the shoulder.

"Yeah, you're right. That's really not true at all. I think you could outdrink _all_ the cheerleaders. Probably a good portion of the football team as well…. You could definitely outdrink Saracen."

They are both laughing now.

All is forgiven. All awkwardness is gone. They are, in fact, the very friends they claim to be.

Tim nods over his shoulder, a devilish gleam appearing in his eyes.

"I think I know just what the doctor ordered."

Lyla turns her attention to the pool below, letting a slow smile spread across her lips. She could simply refuse, but that pool has been beckoning to her all evening. She looks back up at Tim, meeting his eyes in a challenge. "I'm in, if you are."

Tim doesn't hesitate. "Oh, I'm in alright." In one fluid movement he closes in, lifting her over his right shoulder, fireman style. He places his empty beer bottle on the wooden railing as he heads down the stairs. "You asked for it, Garrity."

Lyla is laughing too hard to protest. Nor does she have any desire to do so. As Tim stalks closer to the water, she is relieved that she chose not to wear her favorite cowboy boots tonight.

She expects him to forcefully dunk her into the pool, so she is surprised when he places her down right at the edge. His arm is still around her and he is smiling. "I'm not pushing you, Lyla."

A moment passes between them, one comprised of a lot of history… and sparks.

Tim is still smiling as he removes the warm beer bottle from her clenched hand and places it on a nearby ledge. He turns back to her, holding out his hand in silent invitation.

She takes it willingly.

And they jump.

Together.


	4. Chapter 4: There Will Be Fireworks

**A/N- I am the absolute worst. Slow as molasses. I have no excuse, other than normal life things. I do promise that I won't let this fic go forever-unfinished. I only have a couple more chapters in my head, so with any luck I can bang those out faster than I've done the previous ones. My sincerest thanks for reading.**

**Chapter 4:**

Lyla was stretched out on a yellow, checkered blanket, picking at the variety of BBQ specialties spread out before her. Surrounding her was a sea of other blankets, each one occupied by members of the Dillon community. The soundtrack of the afternoon consists of people laughing, food sizzling, beer slurping and every so often a random firecracker bursting overhead.

Fourth-of-July, Dillon-style.

THWAP!

"Hey, watch it!"

Lyla jumped as an unwelcome object landed in her meal, splattering it all over the clean blanket. She wrinkled her nose in disgust as she removed the offending object and turned her accusing gaze onto the two male figures jogging toward her.

Football. Hardly a day in Dillon that didn't revolve around it. And as much as Lyla had genuine enthusiasm for the sport, she didn't appreciate it landing in her dinner.

Her younger brother, Buddy Jr., had clearly fumbled a catch. He, at least, had the decency to look apologetic about it. Behind him was the one and only Tim Riggins, who looked decidedly _less _apologetic. It wouldn't have been wrong to describe his expression as _amused_. Lyla heard Jason, who was seated in his chair beside her blanket, chuckling softly. His plate of food was located safely in his lap, unscathed by wayward footballs.

"Sorry." Buddy Jr. said as he ran over to retrieve the ball. "Fumble."

Lyla arched her brow, handing the mayonnaise-covered ball over to her brother, along with a napkin to wipe up the mess. "Yeah, fumble is right."

Buddy Jr. smirked just a tad as he turned to jog back in the opposite direction. Lyla turned to meet Tim's laughing gaze, "You'd better kick the training up a notch, Riggins. I think you're taking it too easy on butterfingers, over there."

Tim winked at her without missing a beat. "Work in progress, Lyla. Just you wait. I promised I'd turn Little Garrity into Panther material. Failure is not an option."

With that, Tim turned and chased after Buddy Jr. barking orders all the while.

Lyla had to laugh at Tim's coaching technique. She'd been subject to it herself at last year's Powderpuff game. Truth be told, she thought he was a pretty great coach. Just the right amount of drill sergeant mixed in with his natural charisma. She could imagine him following in Coach Taylor's footsteps someday.

"How did that come about, exactly?" Jason piped in with a curious grin.

"Not sure. I bet my dad had something to do with it." Lyla replied distractedly. She was still admiring "Coach Riggins" as he mercilessly tackled her brother to the ground. Smiling to herself, she finally turned to clean up the mess he and his pupil had left in their wake.

Jason observed her quietly, munching on his burger. "Tim's been at your place a lot lately."

It wasn't asked as a question, and yet Lyla felt like Jason was fishing for an answer of some kind. Mostly, because he was.

"I think he spends more time at your place then at his own house."

She shrugged noncommittally, "Yeah, I guess. He's been helping with some of the packing and stuff. Maybe my mom should start paying him."

Jason smiled knowingly and she chose to ignore his smug look.

"Tim can he helpfulwhen he wants to be." Jason paused before landing his not-so-subtle point. "I mean, it's obvious that he _wants _to be… _helpful_. To you, in particular."

Lyla stiffened a little at Jason's words, giving him a warning look. "Jason, don't."

She didn't disagree with his sentiment, but she wasn't entirely comfortable having a conversation about it. She much preferred keeping her thoughts about Tim to herself.

And what exactly were those thoughts? Well, she certainly knew Tim well enough to know that he didn't do anything he didn't want to do. His availability and helpfulness towards her family the last few weeks, was an obvious excuse for him to spend time with her. She couldn't deny that fact, and frankly, she didn't want to deny it. If he hadn't been making excuses to see her, she would probably have found herself doing the same.

Jason leaned forward in his chair, switching to a more sincere tone. "Lyla, I'm not trying to be nosey."

"That's exactly what you're doing, Jason."

"Yeah, I guess I am." He let out a guilty chuckle, without averting his gaze. "But I've earned the right to be."

"So, what's your point?"

"I don't know. I guess I just know how Tim feels about you. So, I was wondering if all the time you've been spending with him is because you're gonna give him a shot, or because you need a handyman around the house?"

Lyla felt her jaw drop open just a bit. She almost couldn't believe what Jason was saying to her. Or, maybe she could believe it. Despite everything that had happened over the years, Jason and Tim were best friends—and they were both her friends as well. Jason had found happiness for himself with a woman that he loved and a baby due any day. Therefore, his words were not laced with jealousy or judgment, but with genuine concern.

_Why not give him a shot?_ That would never be a simple question, because of who Tim was and what he represented. Resident hedonist. Slacker. Takes nothing seriously.

But still, the question kept nagging at her. He cared enough to be a good friend. She enjoyed spending time with him. And, then there was the chemistry. It had always been there, but wasn't always easy to ignore_._ Even while she was calling him her friend out loud, she couldn't stop her thoughts from straying to less platonic places.

"You are being nosey." She met Jason's gaze head on. "I know, okay? How Tim used to feel—"

"You mean how he still feels." He corrected her. "Don't kid yourself, Lyla. Just be honest about it."

"Fine." She gritted out, trying to find the most honest answer she was comfortable with vocalizing. Meanwhile, her stomach had dropped at Jason's confirmation that Tim's feelings for her were still very much alive and in the present tense. As if she didn't suspect as much. "Maybe I do know how he feels."

"Glad we cleared the ridiculously obvious part up. What about the not-so-obvious part?"

Lyla let out a defeated sigh. She could tell that Jason was amused by the fact that she was being so coy. Even if she wasn't answering his question with words, she was giving him a pretty decent set of clues as to her feelings where Tim was concerned. It was, in fact, encouraging his persistent line of questioning. Had she really felt nothing for Tim, this conversation would have never happened at all.

"Maybe. I just… I don't know. This is Tim we're talking about."

Jason didn't look at all surprised by her admission. "Yeah, well, I've never seen him as dedicated to anything as he is to being with you."

"He's not _with_ me."

"Exactly my point."

She followed his gaze to where Tim was still showing Buddy Jr. the finer art of tackling.

She laughed as she watched her younger brother launched himself at Tim's steadfast figure, only to bounce off and land on his rear end. Turning her attention back toward Jason. "Okay. Now that you're done prying into my life, I think it's my turn to return the favor."

Jason gestured to his empty plate as he started to wheel his chair backwards, away from her blanket. "Actually, I need another burger. Guess your inquisition is going to have to wait!"

"Coward!" She called after his rapidly retreating form.

Lyla stood up, stretched out her limbs and jogged over to where Buddy Jr. was now chugging a bottle of water, and Tim was shaking his head in mock disappointment. "Real men chug beer, not water."

"Tim!" Lyla swatted Tim's bicep as she came up behind him. She could see that he was joking, but it still wasn't the best advice to give to an impressionable teenager. "Are you about done corrupting my baby brother?"

Tim's mischievous smile widened, "It's what I do best."

"I know." She returned his smile, and felt the now all-too-familiar fluttering sensation in her stomach whenever he was in close proximity. The one that made those un-friendship-like thoughts enter her brain so often. "Why don't you guys take a break for now?"

Buddy Jr. looked relieved, nodding enthusiastically. Clearly he had had enough of Tim's intensive training session. As her brother hightailed it in the other direction, Lyla continued to gaze appreciatively at Tim. She admired his taught muscles and the slight sheen of sweat that clung to them. She thought about how tempting it was to step closer, wrap her arms around him and-

"Fireworks!"

"What?" She replied dumbly, feeling her face flush from her brief foray into fantasyland. He had said something to her and she hadn't even registered it.

He chuckled, taking her hand and pulling her back toward her blanket. "_I said_… it's almost time for the fireworks."

"Oh, yeah…"


	5. Chapter 5: Breathing the Same Air

**A/N - Hello, lovely readers. I just got a visit from the ghost of unfinished fanfics past and now I feel terrible for having left this hanging for so long. That was never my intention. I figured one more chapter was necessary to at least finish what I started. I doubt it was worth the long wait, but I hope you enjoy it all the same. Thanks for reading. :)**

**Chapter 5**

She was pacing.

First, she had just been standing there. Then, she'd been considering. Now she was definitely pacing. And pacing is never good.

Especially when you're standing in front of someone's house, debating on whether or not you want to ring the doorbell, knowing they could catch you pacing outside….

Lyla stopped herself from pacing and bravely faced the front door, which was no longer where it was supposed to be. Instead, it had been swung open to reveal a very amused Tim Riggins leaning in the doorframe.

_Of course._

"Garrity."

Busted. Now she could only hope he hadn't been aware of her presence for too long.

"There a reason you been standing in front of my house for the last 10 minutes? The bell works, you know."

Lyla had few other options aside from honesty, so she swallowed her pride and decided to stick with the truth. "I wasn't sure I wanted to ring it, Tim."

He chuckled at that, nodding. Clearly, he understood the feeling. It's possible he'd even paced outside a few doors himself at one time or another.

His nonchalant response immediately put her at ease.

She could do this.

"Well, the door's open now. Why don't you come on in?"

He left the door open for her as he sauntered back inside.

When she entered the room a few moments later, he was already plopped on the couch with his feet up on the coffee table. If Lyla didn't know better, she'd have thought he'd been there all day.

He smiled up at her, patting the seat beside him in welcome. "Make yourself at home."

He was lounging with both arms resting on the back of the couch. She sat down next to him, in the crook of his right arm. She made sure there was a small space between them, even thought she would have preferred to be closer.

She could definitely do this.

Smiling coyly, she pointed to the cold beer resting on the table by his boots, "You know, Tim, it's customary to offer a drink when you have a guest."

He smiled at her without taking his eyes off the television, "You want a drink, Lyla?"

"I thought you'd never ask."

He leaned over, picking up his bottle of beer and handed it to her. "It's all yours. The very last one."

She wasn't sure if he was being serious, or being seriously lazy. Either way his lack of eye contact wasn't exactly what she'd had in mind when she decided to come over. Maybe she had made an error in judgment. Suddenly, she felt foolish for more than just the pacing.

She took a sip of his beer, trying to wash away her frustration. Could he really find some stupid fishing show more fascinating than her company? She was strongly considering getting up and leaving…

Her heart nearly stopped as the arm that had been casually resting behind her suddenly slid around her shoulders, pulling her close to his body. They were now hip to hip; the heat coming off him was warming up every inch of her.

She let herself relax into his embrace, settling her head against his shoulder. Had there been anyone around to witness the moment, they would have surely taken the two of them for a couple. Lyla herself had to wonder if maybe they were a couple and she just hadn't noticed. Of course, if that were the case, then kissing would certainly be in order. Not to mention, all the stuff that came after kissing. And, so far, there had been nothing of the sort. Not recently, anyway.

The moments ticked by and she started to enjoy the stupid fishing show. Okay, no, the fishing show was boring, but she was enjoying the feel of Tim beside her. She was enjoying the feel of his strong arm wrapped around her, lighting caressing her shoulder.

She wanted both arms. She wanted it all.

"Tim?"

She heard herself whisper his name before she had considered the rest of her sentence. She lifted her head, hoping he'd turn to meet her eyes. Thankfully, he complied. Their faces were close enough that _not_ kissing would have been more awkward than kissing.

And yet…. the not kissing continued.

She was, however, surprised to see his eyes clouded with emotion. It suddenly dawned on her that he wasn't as calm and collected as he let her think. Her presence was definitely affecting him. "Why'd you come here tonight, Lyla?"

"Do you want me to leave?" She asked quietly, knowing she'd be absolutely devastated if he said yes.

He licked his lips absently. If only he knew what that did to her insides. She watched as he waged some kind of inner battle with himself.

Those beautiful hazel eyes were averted to the ceiling before finally focusing on nothing but her, "I don't want you to leave."

A slow smile spread across her face and his followed suit. They were so close that the tips of their noses nearly touched. Lyla swore there was some kind of electric current being passing between them.

And yet, the lack of kissing continued.

"Why won't you kiss me, Ti—"

The words had barely left her lips… before his lips were already capturing hers. Eagerly, deeply and yet sweetly all at the same time. No one had ever kissed her the way Tim did.

She felt his hand slip into her hair, pulling her even closer. She reciprocated, swept away by the moment. Swept away by him. Wishing it wouldn't end. That he wouldn't stop.

When they finally broke apart, she was completely breathless and her heart was racing. He pulled back to meet her eyes, leaving his hands softly touching her cheeks.

"All you had to do was ask." His voice was soft and sincere, but she could see the slight mischief in his eyes. It was one of the things she loved the most about him.

_Love._

She saw that now, too. It was there in his eyes. It had never left. He still loved her.

He loved her enough not to push when she needed space. He loved her enough to be her friend no matter how much he wanted more. He loved her enough to wait for her to come to him.

And come to him she had.

She was ready to love him back. Had been for a while, in fact. She knew that it wouldn't be easy, but she also knew that most worthwhile things never were.

She pulled him close once more, hovering inches from his lips. "Don't stop."

"I don't plan on it, Garrity."

As he proceeded to kiss her senseless, she had one last fleeting thought.

_What took us so long?_

The End


End file.
